


bloody sunshine

by thefullergirl



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Blood, Disappearance, Gen, Mystery, Psychological Horror, Roommates, very vague potential interpretation of murder/violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:29:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26892208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefullergirl/pseuds/thefullergirl
Summary: The yellow is still behind his eyelids when he finally closes his eyes.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan
Comments: 38
Kudos: 57
Collections: Challenge #2 — tricks; treats; and terrors





	bloody sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> this was honestly fun to write lol
> 
> i hope u like it! <3

**March 24, 9:15am**

Reaching for his phone stuffed under his pillow, Donghyuck turns the alarm off. His eyes are still closed, and he blindly reaches for the space beside him. Still warm, he notes, but empty.

After a few more minutes of snuggling into his cool sheets, he wills himself to sit up. The wall opposite his bed is still that slate gray, cold as ever. He vaguely remembers thinking about repainting it.

Slowly, he gets out of bed, letting his bare feet onto the wooden floor. There’s a slight pounding at his temple, but that never really went away. He dutifully makes the bed, smoothing over both sides. A yellow bracelet is on the side opposite of his, and he only places it on top of the pillow.

Donghyuck almost expects to hear the clatter of kitchen utensils when he walks out of his bedroom. When he doesn’t see the unmistakable tuft of pink hair, he silently chides himself. Of course. Renjun would have left already, to go to his own job a little further into town.

He finds a plate on the kitchen counter, covered by one of those plastic cloches that keep the insects away. On the plate are a few vegetable pancakes, arranged carefully. They’re a little cold now, but Donghyuck doesn’t mind.

Munching on a bite of pancake, he looks around their apartment. It’s not all that small, as they’ve both cramped into much tinier spaces before. Everything was as tidy as they could manage it and as simple as possible, and they’ve found ways to make it cozier somehow. Make it feel like a home they could live in.

It wasn’t much, it’s true. But they didn’t need much.

His eye catches on the clothes drying on their makeshift clothesline. He’s going to have to take them down and fold them when he gets home from work. Truthfully, a lot had to be done when they got home, mostly because they were far too absorbed in celebrating Renjun’s fourth birthday in Busan last night.

Honestly, Donghyuck didn’t remember much from last night, but maybe it was best. Undoubtedly, they would have done something stupid that they don’t want to ever admit to doing. It was how it had always been, even before they moved. A tradition of sorts.

Donghyuck finishes his pancakes, standing up to wash his plate in the sink. He considers getting one of his bottles of tea in the fridge, but thinks against it. He should really cut down on the sugar this early in the morning.

Stepping into the shower, he can still smell the remnants of Renjun’s sweet-smelling bodywash. Sometimes, he’d steal some, hoping that Renjun wouldn’t notice that he smelled faintly of him. (He almost always noticed.) 

Today, he decides against it, what with the small amount left in the clear bottle. Donghyuck makes a mental note to buy him some more on the way home.

Twenty minutes later, he’s out of the shower, cold already from the early spring chill. Doyoung longs to have a better thermostat, but he pushes the thought out of his mind. They can’t really get that right now.

As he slips on his uniform, he steals a glance to the bracelet on the pillow, a stark color against the faded blue pillowcase. It’s Renjun’s favorite. He tries not to leave without it, but sometimes it just slips his mind.

Donghyuck leaves not long after.

“You look worse than all the other March 24ths so far,” Yangyang remarks, pouring more of the ice cream mix into the machine.

Donghyuck doesn’t really have the energy to throw the crumpled up receipts at him. “You say that every year.”

Shrugging, Yangyang steps down from his stepping stool. “That’s because you look worse every year. Do I even want to know what you did last night?”

Donghyuck only shakes his head. “You’re assuming I myself remember.”

The younger boy only tuts at him, taking off his cap momentarily to shake his curls out. They were lighter now, nearly blonde. It didn’t matter if Busan was mostly gray, the boy always seemed to be warm all year round. Donghyuck has always understood why some of the customers looked at Yangyang for a beat too long.

“At least you don’t get into trouble, unlike some of the people around here.” Yangyang makes a pointed look at one of the aisles, where they both know too well of a certain customer picking out his third bottle of the day. It was just 11:30. The pair let out a sigh.

Time ticks by differently in a convenience store, even more so if they’re sitting behind the counter. There wasn’t really a clock here other than the broken one that Donghyuck had long shoved into one of the cabinets. Sometimes it would show the right time, other times both Donghyuck and Yangyang didn’t really know what the right time was anymore.

Donghyuck tries not to think too much about how much time he still has left until his shift ends.

He comes home to a quiet apartment. Not really out of place, as sometimes Renjun would just lie down on the bed in his own room and mull over things, only to have Donghyuck knock on the door to urge him to eat something. 

Gently, he sets down the canvas bag with a takeout container full of stew. He and Renjun could have it for at least 3 meals, he thinks. Donghyuck takes it out gingerly, setting it onto the countertop quietly.

“Junnie?” he calls out. Instead of a response, he hears Moomin, Renjun’s ragdoll cat, pad into the kitchen, and Donghyuck reaches down to give her a scritch on the head.

“You home, Junnie?” he tries again, a little louder. Moomin tilts her head at him.

Crouching down, Donghyuck pets her again, running his hands over her soft fur. “Have you seen your dad?”

She only looks at him with her big eyes. Donghyuck thinks about the last time he filled her bowls, and goes to check. Sure enough, both food and water bowls are empty, which wouldn’t have been the case if Renjun was home.

Quietly, Donghyuck fills the bowls, letting her eat. He doesn’t even know why he’s being quiet, when there’s no one to disturb. Moomin seems grateful, her tail flicking as she munches away.

Pulling out his phone, he checks if he has any new messages. There aren’t any from Renjun, but there’s one from Yangyang asking if he’s gotten home safely.

Again, not really out of the ordinary. Sometimes Renjun would crash at Chenle’s place, since it’s closer to where he works and he’s too tired to take the last bus home.. He’d be back in the morning, and Donghyuck will try to convince him that he needs a little more rest before setting off for work again.

It wasn’t anything to worry about, but Donghyuck still felt his stomach twist. God, he must be hungry.

He heats some of the stew in the microwave, watching Moomin finish up her bowl of food while he waits. She seems a little unsettled at not seeing Renjun for most of the day. Guess that makes the two of them.

“He’ll be home,” he says, but he’s not sure if it’s for the cat or for himself.

Donghyuck eats in silence, staring at Chenle’s number and debating whether or not he should call. At this hour, Chenle usually wouldn’t really want to be disturbed, so he doesn’t press the button. He bites his lip, finishes his food, and washes up. For a moment, he just looks at the laundry he still hasn’t taken off the clothesline.

In bed, he looks at the bracelet on the pillow next to his for a few minutes. Shaking his head, Donghyuck takes it and puts it on the bedside table on his side. 

The yellow is still behind his eyelids when he finally closes his eyes.

**March 25, 9:15am**

Like clockwork, Donghyuck wakes up. He doesn’t really remember his alarm going off. Blindly, yet again, he reaches for the space beside him, the space he always leaves. Colder now than it had been yesterday.

He sits up, stares at his cold, slate gray wall. Donghyuck thinks about repainting it, maybe a baby blue.

Slowly, he gets out of bed, letting his bare feet onto the wooden floor. There’s a slight pounding at his temple, but it never goes away. He dutifully makes the bed, smoothing over both sides. The yellow bracelet stares at him from his bedside table, and he thinks of putting it on the pillow. After some time, he just decides to slip it onto his own wrist.

Donghyuck almost expects to hear the clatter of kitchen utensils when he walks out of his bedroom. When he doesn’t see the unmistakable tuft of pink hair, he silently chides himself. Of course. Renjun wasn’t back yet. He didn’t know when he would be.

There’s no plate covered by a plastic cloche today. Donghyuck rummages through the fridge for something to eat, and after finding nothing that could be done quickly, he gets one of Renjun’s overly sugary cereals.  _ He wouldn’t mind, _ he thinks to himself. Renjun never really minds.

He pours out a bowl for himself, finishes off the last of their milk. Donghyuck will have to buy more on the way home. Vaguely, he remembers that he has to buy more of Renjun’s bodywash too.

As with most mornings, he eats quietly, looking around their apartment. It’s not all that small, as they’ve both cramped into much tinier spaces before. Everything was as tidy as they could manage it and as simple as possible, and they’ve found ways to make it cozier somehow. Make it feel like a home they could live in.

Like that coffee table they got from a garage sale down the street. It has paint splatters and specks of glitter now from one of Renjun’s many projects. And the mismatched frames they bought when either one of them passed by the store. And the old but serviceable couch, with a throw blanket on it at all times and rings from Renjun’s coffee mug.

It wasn’t much, it’s true. But they didn’t need much.

His eye catches on the clothes drying on their makeshift clothesline. He’s going to have to take them down and fold them when he gets home from work. Truthfully, a lot had to be done when he got home, because he didn’t get anything done the past few days. Donghyuck didn’t want Renjun to come home to that.

When he finishes, he puts the bowl in the sink. He stares at it, and for some reason he doesn’t feel like washing it quite yet. 

Donghyuck hears Moomin padding into the kitchen, the smallest of growls in her throat. He grips the edge of the sink until his knuckles turn white. 

“He’s not back yet, is he?” he asks so quietly. Turning to the cat, Donghyuck feels like everything that’s been holding him up is sinking. Moomin only looks at him with sad eyes. Of course. She doesn’t fully understand yet. He doesn’t feel like explaining.

The logical move would be to call Chenle. Just to check. Donghyuck just needed some sort of peace of mind before it all frays out and he’s left in a heap.

He shouldn’t be afraid, right? This has happened before. Renjun’s phone would die. He’d be too exhausted to even get up from Chenle’s pull-out mattress. He’d be back, a little embarrassed. Renjun would explain, even though the story has always been the same, and Donghyuck will just make a fond little noise in his throat and envelop him in an embrace, no matter how much Renjun squirmed.

All he needs to do is call Chenle.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he calls the next number he can think of, letting it ring as he holds his phone patiently to his ear. Moomin seems to be pouting up at him.

Jaemin picks up on the fourth ring. “Hey, Hyuckie,” he says brightly. The unmistakable beeping of a fire alarm can be heard through the phone. “Uh, gimme a sec, I’ll move into a different room.”

There’s some shuffling, and a muffled command to somebody else in the room. Indeed, the sound seems to fade away. “What’s up?”

Jaemin lived three floors away from them. It was his rest day, and Donghyuck has no doubt in his mind that he was whipping up another batch of something to feed him and Yangyang the next day.

Donghyuck stares at the neon green frame on the table by the couch, and even from this distance, he can recognize their smiling faces. Graduation day, far too long ago. He takes a deep breath.

“Uh,” he begins, trying to find the words. “Can you um, come over for a sec? Just need some help with something.”

It almost surprises him that his voice doesn’t waver. Moomin growls again, and Donghyuck gives her a sympathetic look. He needs to feed her again soon.

“Oh, sure!” Jaemin says. There’s a little metallic clatter as Jaemin sets something down. “Do you need me to bring anything? Like a toolbox or whatever?”

“No, no,” Donghyuck replies, shifting his attention back to the photo frame. “Just you.”

“Okiedoks! Be there in a few, just gotta finish this one thing.”

“Take your time, it’s fine,” Donghyuck says. It is fine. There’s no actual rush.

When he puts the phone down, he stares at his screen. His wallpaper is a photo of their last beach trip, and somehow it feels like it was way too long ago.

Donghyuck dials another number, and he clutches his phone securely to his ear. He stares straight ahead as the person on the other line picks up.

“Yeah, 112? I think...I think something happened in my home.”

“May I get your name and address, sir?”

“Lee Donghyuck,” he says, without hesitation. “I live in Dalsan-ri. In the old apartment complexes at the edge of it.”

“Okay Mr. Lee, I need you to tell me what happened.”

Donghyuck looks at the blood on the floor, soaking into their freshly laundered carpets. It’s dark and the pool is large enough to think that whoever’s blood that is, it’s unlikely they’re still alive. He looks at the splatters on the mismatched frames, on the yellowed leather couch, on their slate gray walls. He thinks of the streaks he’s left on the fridge, on his bowl, on the sink, on his bed. He thinks of the way his phone is slipping from his hand.

“There’s blood.” His voice is the calmest it’s ever been. “There’s so much blood. It’s not mine.”

“Mr. Lee, I need you to stay on the line with me. Can you do that?”

He nods. “Yes,” he replies. “I’ll stay on the line.”

There isn’t much else he understands if the person on the other end was still saying something to him. He only holds his phone to his ear, vaguely aware of the way he’s dripping all over Renjun’s favorite bracelet, making sounds to ensure that he was still there. He is calm. He is as calm as ever.

Jaemin is the first to arrive, and he very promptly drops the plate he’s carrying to the floor. His eyes are the widest Donghyuck has seen them. He seems to be saying something, maybe even screaming, but Donghyuck doesn’t hear.

Soon enough, there are other people coming in, all too much. He thinks he hears Moomin growling louder. The pounding at his temple worsens. Donghyuck stands very still by the kitchen counter, even when his hand has already dropped his phone.

Everyone’s here , he thinks, and he wants to close his eyes. Something to take the pain away. He just wants to be away. Everyone’s here.

Renjun isn’t.

Somehow, at some point, he gets pretty much dragged out. Donghyuck doesn’t fight. What for?

But he takes one last look at his home, their home, and thinks about how Renjun wouldn’t like the mess that it has become. He won’t like seeing all these people poking around their stuff. He won’t like their photos being put into evidence bags.

Donghyuck thinks of the laundry he hasn’t folded yet. He thinks of Moomin’s empty bowls. He thinks of the milk and the bodywash he still has to buy.

Before he closes his eyes against the hammering into his skull, Donghyuck looks at the bracelet on his wrist, the yellow now marred by blood. Renjun wouldn’t like that either.

**Author's Note:**

> leave a kudos/comment if u liked it! i appreciate every single one <3
> 
> talk to me: [twt](https://twitter.com/bundoie) | [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/bundoie)


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